


Without You

by IceColdIgnorance



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 21:37:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10705626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceColdIgnorance/pseuds/IceColdIgnorance
Summary: Luhan leaves, Minseok feels empty. So empty.





	Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the block of text, it's after midnight for me and I lost my thought process through my tears. I listened to Promise by Exo and Smile Flower by Seventeen, just to give me that mood of the story. Please do enjoy!

Minseok’s fingers daintily lept off of the piano keys, the familiar ring of the out of tune notes echoing through the empty home. He had never really thought of tuning the piano; He didn’t want to break it as it was a gift from a lover. A lover that had yet to come home. Sighing, he took in the lifeless room. It was shaped like a hexagon, the door behind him, the other walls covered in windows or detailed paintings depicting various scenes in a person’s life. The miracle of birth, the innocence of childhood, the vastness of youth, the longing of adulthood, and the acceptance of seniority. The wallpaper peeled away around the rusted window panes, showing the true ugliness of the rotten wood underneath the hideously outdated wallpaper Minseok had lazily decided not to change. Minseok hated this room. Nonetheless, he found himself here, sitting on the bench that crouched in front of the grand piano, back slouched like a teenager in class, thoughts drifting through his music. He would never consider this room to be his favorite, his only regard about the room was that it was his most used. As soon as Luhan had disappeared for the army, the cat eyed boy stilled his restlessness in the hideous room that stood out from the rest of the house. Minseok stood, feet dragging on the creaking floorboard. He wanted to cry, but his eyes were dry, his soul empty. Everything was empty these days. He barely ate, barely slept. Minseok just sat at the piano, slave to the music. He left the room, disturbing the silence of the house. Creeping his way through the living room, Minseok paused in front of the couch. The couch he and Luhan had shared their first kiss, giggling from large amounts of illegal alcohol. The coffee table where Minseok hit his head during their first fight, Luhan bursting into tears at the sight of his lover bleeding all over the carpet. Alas, the carpet. The carpet where there were still bloodstains from the fight, stains from Luhan’s midnight coffee addiction, a chunk of carpet missing from a failed valentine’s day present and a shard of glass embedded into the rough knit from an incident with a window and a screwdriver. Minseok almost laughed at the memory, almost. Nothing in his soul willed him to do so, except for the tiny voice in the back of his head that giggled during funerals saying, 'Go ahead, Luhan would want this for you'. He would want you to be happy. But would he? Minseok ripped his ponderous thoughts into shreds before moving on to the next memoryful room. The kitchen. Ah, the kitchen. The kitchen where most sexual encounters had happened, Minseok and Luhan throwing themselves at each other constantly. Luhan burned himself here the most, usually making cookies for Minseok after a long day of work. Wincing at the reminiscence of Luhan standing there, a sweet smile on his face with a tray of still warm cookies, his shiny white teeth glimmering in the light of the oven. Before he could hurt himself more, Minseok walked away, only to be struck by the horror of what room he had just walked into. Luhan’s office. Minseok tried to back away, but the voice in his head seemed to control him and make him move forward towards the multitude of pictures, some polaroids, some just regular pictures in detailed frames. A small stack of polaroids caught Minseok’s eye. Of course it did, the top photo was of Luhan himself, grinning like an idiot with a cat wrapped in arms who had a less than pleased expression. Minseok caught himself almost laughing again. He mustn't laugh, no. He was supposed to be sad, was he not? Was he caught up in the selfishness of his privilege of having home that he was enjoying himself? Moving on from the cat photo, Minseok slid the photo aside with a thin, trembling finger. The next one was a happy photo, Minseok and Luhan caught in mid laugh, laughing about something stupid probably, Luhan holding the camera away from them, eyes squeezed shut with laughter. The other photos were snapshots of their life together, Minseok looking unamused over a stack of vintage tapes, a sneaky shot of Minseok asleep with his arm lazily resting over his stomach. 'The position of a prince' was written in messy sharpie underneath it, Minseok taking a sharp intake of breath when he realized the writing was about him. The pictures were mostly of Minseok in the most ridiculous positions, but some were of his paintings in progress and the cat they had fostered for a year. Minseok pushed his tears back angrily and stomped upstairs, fuming from the unfairness of it all. Why must the prettiest flowers be picked? Minseok threw himself onto the bed before furiously rolling off the side and onto the floor. He dug around for a little until he found what he was looking for. A battered cardboard box, with messy written notes littering the sides. Minseok took a notebook from the box and held it in the light of the sunlight filtering in from the window. 'For when you need it, Minseok. -Luhan.' Minseok had avoided this notebook for months, refusing to even glance at it. But here he was, opening it. Polaroids appeared here too, but this time with notes that had a the signature Luhan flair to it. A picture of that retched piano in the hexagon room. Minseok hates this piano, I can tell. But he’ll use it, I know he will hehe. Tears spilled over the edge, onto the photos, the writing. More notes, more photos. More Luhan. The more he read, the more it hurt. Minseok shrunk into sleep, the notebook clutched tightly in his arms, his heart aching more than his head. 

The doorbell rang. Minseok barely got up to answer it, his eyes still half open from sleep. The door clicked in its familiar manner, the rusted hinges creaking with every moment. Minseok’s heart stopped. The world stopped and took a collective breath. It couldn’t be… Never.

“Luhan?” Minseok croaked, his voice scratchy after days, months of not speaking. 

“Minseok,” Luhan’s voice was barely a breath as he embraced Minseok, tears springing from his eyes as well as Minseok’s. Minseok sobbed into his shoulder, his own shoulders shaking, lip trembling as tears overwhelmed him. His uniform clenched in Minseok’s tight fist, Luhan pulled them both inside, closing the door behind them. Minseok pulled away enough to see Luhan’s face inches from his own.

“You’re back,” Minseok cried through his tears as Luhan pulled him into a kiss. It was sweet and definitely not short. Luhan held Minseok close, so close, like he never wanted to let him go. 

And Minseok would never let him go again.


End file.
